


Take Me To Your River

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Grinding, Light Angst, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:13:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Come to LA with me, then. For new year’s.” He says it so simply like the idea hasn’t been on Harry’s mind for a fortnight, since Richard brought it up over the phone.“Come on,” Richard speaks lowly, “just you and me.” It sounds too tempting.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Richard Madden
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	Take Me To Your River

**Author's Note:**

> I started watching the bodyguard and wrote this bc richard is hot and harry needs that in his life.

“Aren’t you watching it anymore?” Richard says quietly into the mess of dark curls tucked under his jaw. He feels a slight movement that he assumes is meant to be a shake of dismissal. “You’re missing out.”

The television is playing a low budget Christmas film on one of the more obscure channels that he’s not too keen to be paying for. Harry had been adamant that they would watch it together, purely for irony’s sake, but he’d given up twenty-five minutes in, and resigned to resting in Richard’s lap.

“I’m still listening,” he murmurs, lips moving wetly against Richard’s neck, “s’just as thrilling.”

Richard laughs and winds his arms tighter around his waist, hands pressed onto his skin through Richard’s own linen shirt that Harry had slept in. He rubs his cheek against Harry’s hair, matted after a few days without a wash. The heat emanating from the fireplace keeps them both warm, despite the biting cold and sleet outside. There are a few cardboard boxes on the floor, spilling over with decorations, next to the bare fir tree, evidence of their inability to finish a task when there’s the opportunity to touch each other.

“When are you kicking me out?” Harry asks after a few minutes of quiet, kissing the skin against his mouth.

“Not going to kick you out,” He replies, lifting a hand to scratch Harry’s scalp, “but my sisters are coming tomorrow. You’re supposed to be going home, I thought.”

“I know,” he sighs, “just going to miss you.” His cheeks redden at the admission of his feelings so he’s glad his face is hidden, until fingers reach his chin and his head is tilted upwards. Richard’s mouth is pulled into an easy smile.

“Come to LA with me, then. For new year’s.” He says it so simply like the idea hasn’t been on Harry’s mind for a fortnight, since Richard brought it up over the phone.

“You know I-“ Harry starts, but he’s quickly disrupted with a pair of lips on the spot next to his mouth. “Richard.” He warns, but it's futile.

“Come on,” he speaks lowly, “just you and me.” It sounds too tempting.

“And a whole bunch of people with cameras.” It’s hard to reply with the distraction but he succeeds. It’s not so much the exposure of their relationship to others that worries him, not that he’s with a man – publicly, but rather the risk of embarrassment if it all fails. Again. It’s been closer to two years since he’s progressed this far with someone. He still hates to admit the sting the last one had left, the way his sense of trust is tainted. But he likes Richard; enough to try and enough to make himself vulnerable. “Won't be able to kiss you on the countdown if there are pictures being taken.”

“You don’t like being on film?” Richard teases, like he’s unaware of the countless pictures and videos of Harry’s naked body on his camera roll.

“Shut up.” Harry whines but welcomes the touch of Richard’s palms on his arse, arching his back like a kitten. Richard lets out a laugh which stops abruptly when Harry begins a lazy grind.

“Seriously, though.” His voice is strained.

“Talk later.”

Richard does as he’s told, sits back and watches in awe, and Harry revels in a little power trip before a strong grip settles on the crease between his pelvis and thighs, squeezes and scratches underneath the cotton of his briefs. The heavy pinching sensations go straight to his dick, which is steadily filling out where it presses into the bare abdomen beneath him. Harry absentmindedly fingers through the thick dark hair on Richard’s chest, breaking their intense eye contact to watch how his delicate painted digits look against the firm pecs underneath them.

Their deep breaths drown out the sounds from the television and the crackles of the fire. Richard can do nothing but watch as Harry’s hips undulate harder, until they’re both panting. Luxuriously does Harry tip his head back, pushes his chest upwards, so he balances himself with a hand on Richard’s knee. The shirt billows open around his torso and Richard takes the opportunity to slip it off before playing with his nipples roughly, in a way he’s grown accustomed to Harry enjoying. He’s smug when Harry moans, voice all high-pitched and broken. His nipples are stiff and cherry-red when he lets go.

It makes Harry eager to reciprocate the pleasure. He rolls his hips deeper, feeling the cock under his arse harden with each wave until he’s almost bouncing his body up and down, delirious from the desire in Richard’s eyes as they gaze all over his body. He feels sexy in a way he hasn’t in a while; when he’s putting on a show for someone and he knows exactly what they want to see.

Harry almost forgets that there’s more ways for them to touch, deeper ways to connect until Richard slows his wild movements, grips his chin in one hand, telling him to, “get my cock out.”

He does so happily, untying the draw string of Richard’s sweatpants with a grin, knocking their foreheads together as he gets a grip on Richard, pulling him out. He’s heavy and pulsing in Harry’s grip; he jacks him once, twice, till a bead of clear liquid bubbles from his hot pink head.

“What’re you gonna do that with that, darling?” Richard drawls, accent strong. Harry’s reminded of what attracted him to Richard those few months ago, in that bar, summer heat stuffy and drinks ice cold. He was that perfect mix of gentle and assertive that Harry had fallen victim to more than once before, with a Scottish twang to boot. He had no chance.

“Gonna fuck myself with it,” He smiles sweetly, bites his lip.

“Yeah?” Richard smirks, looking painfully handsome and Harry can just about manage a nod of affirmation.

He steps off his lap briefly so they can both remove their clothes before sitting back on his knees. He’s open from their shag this morning so he only needs a couple of spit slick fingers, just as Richard spits into his palm and tugs himself for a moment. It’s not enough but they both know he likes the burn of it.

Once they’re adequately wet, Harry sits up with a hand to Richard’s shoulder and the other on his cock, guiding it to his waiting hole. Richard’s already there with his thumb swiping against that soft opening, appreciating his chance to feel the most intimate part of Harry’s body. It turns Harry on more than he wants to admit.

“You done?” He had hoped to sound somewhat impudent but instead it’s more desperate than anything. Richard is silent as he replaces Harry’s hand on his cock with his own, pushes it into Harry’s tight body; forces Harry down, down, down onto him until there’s nowhere to go and he’s sat on Richard’s thighs.

The intrusion makes it difficult for Harry to breathe, feels as though Richard’s cock ends near his lungs. He doesn’t wait for the stretch to settle before he begins to move, rides him in ripples, loses himself in the motions and all-consuming feeling of fulness.

“Yeah,” Richard moans and begins talking like he isn’t aware of what he’s saying, “so hot. Baby. Harry.” He tips his head back against the sofa, the sight of Harry’s body flushed, glowing, pulled taught too overwhelming.

As he rides the cock inside him, he experiences this power he seldom feels during sex. He rarely controls his partners like this, normally the one to give up any and all authority. It feels good to use Richard like this. If he closes his eyes, the shaft inside him, stretching him so sweetly, could have been any one of the toys in his bedside drawer.

He rides him dirty until the pressure against his prostate swells and bursts; he places a hand to his dick as he comes, mouth open in euphoria. When he opens his eyes, Richard is red in the face, chest (now splattered in white) rising and falling rapidly, looking so gorgeous and hopeless.

“You want to come?” Harry says, stroking a thumb down Richard’s cheek. Harry likes him; he really really likes him.

“Do you want a slap?” Richard retaliates; unlike Harry, he’s able to retain most of his wit when overcome with pleasure.

It’s tricky when he’s like this but Harry manages to roll his eyes and it’s worth it when he sees the strict look in Richard’s eyes. He knows he’s in for it later but clenches down anyway, relishing in the sight of the pained expression on Richard’s face. He grinds deliciously slow, feels Richard twitch inside him.

“ _Come for me, darling_.” Harry grins smugly when he feels Richard orgasm inside him, the hands on his thighs shaking. He lets out a hoarse groan and it feels perfect to Harry, all warm and lovely. He giggles as Richard finally comes to a minute later, wiggles a little against the softening cock inside him.

“Off. Off,” Richard murmurs and helps Harry lift up, tries to ignore the drips of come from Harry’s arse, utterly filthy. Harry keens and kisses the rough beard on Richard’s jaw, as fingers play with his gaping hole, pulling on his rim, gorgeously loose. When he finally begins to relax, there's sharp spank on his arse, sound cracking through the air. A startled squeak leaves his mouth and he looks up with a pout.

“What was that for?” Richard answers by gripping the heated flesh beneath his fingers which makes Harry whine noisily, before he’s hit again. This time Harry just moans, staring into Richard’s eyes.

“Spend new year’s with me,” He says with a stern voice.

“Or what?” Harry smiles, happy with how their chests are pushed together as their hearts slow down simultaneously. There is cum on both of them, cooling into a sticky, uncomfortable mess.

“Or you’ll get punished. And you’ve been bad enough already.”

It’s all empty threats but Harry appreciates the way Richard can ease his anxieties like this. Harry can’t help himself anymore and kisses Richard softly, licking into his plush mouth eagerly, tongue swollen.

“Alright,” he whispers, lips pressed together.

“Good,” Richard says, “Now, shower.”

"Okay, darling."


End file.
